


Lady of Gold

by KateWrites



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateWrites/pseuds/KateWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is the youngest son of a very rich lord. Life has always been an unhappy experience, and he's always dreamed of adventure. When he's kidnapped by pirates, he may get his chance.<br/>Geoff is something of a legend, captain of one of the most infamous ships to ever sail. He searches relentlessly for some mysterious item of myth, and many would do anything to find it before him.<br/>A dark force has been sighted, prowling the edges of the safe zones, dancing just out of reach. Something is lurking, watching those it wishes to harm...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for the original base concept goes to ColeTReed, also known as letsplaytheend on tumblr.

_The story of two lovers, lost to one another…a famous tale indeed; sorrowful, forever bringing about a moment of silence when told. A great pirate, by the name of Captain Flynt the Broken, searched tirelessly for a way to revive his ailing wife. The pure and beautiful Lady Roslyn, who suffered from a terrible illness and held no hope of recovery without a miracle._

_It was for her that he called upon the wretched creature that demanded his soul in exchange for a way to save his beloved. While not a saint by any means, Flynt hesitated. Losing his soul meant that he would never be with Roslyn when they left the earthly plane. But, he could not live a day on this earth without her._

_So he agreed to the exchange._

_A contract was made, both parties signing with their blood and binding the oath. Flynt was bestowed a small, elegant locket—two skeletons wound in an eternal embrace. The creature assured him that it would save his Roslyn from any ailment as long as it was touched with the water of the Fountain of Youth._

_So the brave Captain set out with his crew to locate the fountain, and save his beloved. Their journey was full of dangers and many perished, but Flynt was able to bathe the locket with the pure waters of the fountain._

_And yet when he returned to his dear Roslyn and clasped the locket around her neck, she did not stir. Roslyn perished, succumbing to the disease she had fought so hard against, leaving Flynt alone and without his soul._

_The creature had knowingly betrayed him from the beginning, privy to the knowledge that a soul could not be retrieved by one who did not possess his own.  
_

_In his rage, Flynt begged his creator to set things right, to give him back his beloved. In pity, the creator silently responded to the despair of the broken man._

_He took away Flynt’s pain, and bestowed upon him his soul. Taking the locket, he placed it somewhere safe, and inside he trapped the vile creature who had fooled Flynt and the Captain himself—forever to battle for dominance._

_Whispers say that those whose love is as pure of that of Flynt, will hold the power to save a loved one from any ailment or wound—even revive the dead…_

 

Life was easy, when you were filthy rich it tended to be as easy as it got. And maybe he was a spoiled brat for thinking so, but money didn’t make him happy. Being able to do what he wanted didn’t bring him any joy. Every day was one privileged pile of nothing. Full of no friends, no fun, and no adventure. But it certainly wasn’t lacking rules, expectations, or responsibilities.

His parents demanded a lot from him, hours upon hours of instruction that accepted nothing less than perfection. Tutors with droning voices followed by rigorous training in fencing and other physical activities. Fencing was a subtle, demanding art. And Michael was no artist. He excelled in hand to hand combat, but the delicate wrist and quick deliberate movements fencing required were beyond him. His parents weren’t very understanding.

Groomed from birth to be a lord, and yet he had two older brothers that were standing in front of him in the inheritance line. The ten year gap between them didn’t foster any brotherly bonds either. Though his middle brother Phillip had tried to form something that resembled a sibling relationship when they were kids.

Kids.

Michael didn’t like to think about his childhood.

It wasn’t a particularly sad, but it wasn’t as happy as it could have been. He still preferred not to dwell on his past, instead focusing on the impossible task of pleasing his parents; which meant he should be paying attention to the Latin he was supposed to be translating. Instead he stared out the window, only half listening to the tutor as lectured endlessly about conjugations and verbs.

When the lesson was over, Michael tried not to appear overly excited as he stretched and exited the room. The corridor leading to his chambers was empty, only a few servants milling about. He pushed open the heavy wooden doors and slipped inside before anyone spotted him.

His bedroom was rather simple when compared to those of his brothers—nothing too extravagant save for the large bed that was ridiculously comfortable. He dropped his materials on his neat desk and fell onto the window seat that allowed a perfect view of the ocean lying just outside of the city gates. When he was younger, he had always wished to be a pirate or some great adventurer with—the memories were persistent today.

With a sigh he turned his attention to the high ceiling and lost himself in his emptiness. Maybe there was something to that phrase, money doesn’t buy happiness. He personally believed it chased happiness away. He had plenty of proof to back it up.

 

_“We’re friends right?”_

A knock on his door a few hours later woke Michael from his impromptu nap. Without bidding, Phillip entered and gently made his way towards his little brother.

“You skipped your exercises today.” he said quietly, crossing his arms and leaning against a bed post.

“Yeah? What do you care?” Michael demanded, yawning and rustling his hair.

“Father was furious.” Phillip stated, narrowing his eyes.

“So?” Michael drawled.

“You can’t keep doing this.” Phillip chided.

Michael heaved a weary sigh before languidly stretching and making his way towards the hall.

“I’ll do what I want Phillip. It’s not like I matter anyway.” the curly haired boy didn’t bother facing his brother as he left his room and made for the dining hall.

Phillip sighed, closing his eyes sadly before shaking his head slowly. He straightened, and followed his younger brother’s path to the hall.

Dinner was always a silent affair, Michael never saying more than he had to in order to uphold an air of politeness. He preferred to ignore his company in favor of focusing instead on the delicious meal usually laid out before him. Tonight was no exception, everything was normal. His father was glaring at him while his mother gifted him with disapproving glances she thought he was paying attention to.

 Always the same

In a moment his father would inhale sharply in preparation of one of his long-winded tirades that left him red in the face. His mother would nod in agreement while David smirked at his failure of a little brother from his honored place at their father’s right. Worst of all, Phillip would continuously shoot him these pitying gazes when he thought no one could see them.

Michael’s grip tightened dangerously around the utensil he was wielding with robotic grace just as the sharp intake began.

“Don’t.” Michael growled dangerously , shifting his glare from his soup to the looming figure of Lord Jones.

The anger fizzled out momentarily in his father's eyes, replaced by confusion. David and his mother looked at each other in bewilderment as horror dawned on Phillip’s features.

“What did you say to me?” the large man at the head of the table seethed in hushed tones, face already a ruddy color.

“You heard me.” Michael shot back.

“How dare you speak to your father that way!” his mother reprimanded.

“How dare I? HOW DARE YOU!” he exploded, leaping from his chair and sending it flying backwards, the force causing the delicate legs to shatter against hard marble.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s not feeling well he—“ Phillip tried desperately.

“SHUT UP!” Michael roared before turning his glare on his father. “I’m not putting up with your shit anymore, old man. I’m going to bed.”

With his mother and father screaming at him from their seats, Michael proudly left the dining hall. Exhaustion hit him hard as he entered his room, falling into his bed without changing or taking off his leather boots.

He felt suddenly small, like he was a toddler again and all he wanted was someone who understood him. Someone who at least wanted to be around him. He wanted his best friend.

His gaze shifted to his hand, where he held a small silver pendant, plain save for two sets of initials carved into the metal. His and his childhood friend's.

But the owner of the second set was dead, and had been dead a long time.

With a heavy heart, Michael fell into a restless sleep.

 

  _"We'll always be friends."_  


Something was wrong; he could feel it in the air that surrounded him. He had been trained to detect situations like this—situations that seemed normal yet were anything but. Danger was lurking, and it was in his room.

He tried to disguise his movements naturally while reaching for the knife he kept under his pillows, maybe he would even be able to get the full blown sword tucked between the headboard and mattress. But it was not to be. He had only managed to wrap his fingers around the hilt of the slim but cruel looking dagger when a pair of strong arms roughly pulled him from his bed.

His first instinct was to scream, and when he opened his mouth to do so, a gag was tightly bound to silence him. His hands were next, another having to join in to restrain his struggling form. With great difficulty and a lot of mumbled grunts and curses, his four attackers managed to restrain him with thick ropes tied around his wrists and ankles.

“Suck it, bitch.” He heard one mutter, clearly winded from the heavy breathing.

Michael resisted the urge to roll his eyes; the action may not win him any brownie points with his kidnappers.

They were carting him toward the window he had stupidly left open, a rope and pully system set in place to deliver him down in his bound state. It was as they were securing the harness around his waist that all hell broke loose.

It started with a soft tap on the door, nervous and timid, Phillip’s knock. Michael had never been more thankful that his brother was such a sensitive prick. The kidnappers had frozen in place, obviously hoping that the visitor would leave if met with silence, but Michael knew that wasn’t the case. Phillip entered the room with or without bidding, always.

Michael was almost happy about the predicament he was in when he saw the look on Phillip’s face. Fucking. Priceless.

Of course their current set up was a bit comical; the three kidnappers holding him up by his harness, the son of the great Lord Jones looking something akin to a freshly killed turkey waiting to be roasted.

“Michael?! What’s going on here?!” Phillip demanded.

This time Michael did roll his eyes, meeting the nearest kidnapper’s incredulous gaze through his crudely made mask. Michael raised a brow and shrugged, hoping to convey his exasperation with his brother.

“I'm going for a midnight stroll. What the fuck do you think?!” Michael screamed from behind his gag, the words garbled throught the thick piece of cloth.

“Guards!” Phillip called in a panicked tone, stepping further into the room and reaching for his sword.

“Uh-oh.” One of his kidnappers said.

Michael rolled his eyes again. His night really couldn’t get worse.

“Hope you aren’t afraid of heights.” A woman chirped.

His stomach suddenly dropped, apparently it could get a lot worse.

Michael had a mental list of the worst moments ever experienced in his short life. Being flung out of a window, bound and gagged while relying only on a harness to save him, made the top five. His scream on the way down had been the manliest girly shriek he could muster before landing heavily on the fourth kidnapper, who had made his way down while the others rigged Michael up.

“You are fucking heavy for a privileged prick. Then again I guess you eat regularly.” The man wheezed, hoisting Michael over his shoulder and sprinting for the harbor.

The red-head watched in dismay as Phillip failed to apprehend even one of his attackers as all of them made their way out the window, following the one who carried him.

“Suck it nerds!” one of them screamed over his shoulder.

They all piled into a rowboat, and he had to admit that the group’s rendition of _Row, Row, Row Your Boat_ was beautiful, leaving him a little misty eyed as they made their way out to sea. About an hour into their boating excursion, Michael was sick of the singing and the waves. He was sick of being tied up.

Through muffled requests, he finally got the rag tag group to remove his gag so that he could speak freely.

“Who exactly are you people?” he asked lazily.

“We’re your kidnappers.” One of them shrugged, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

His beard and generally easy going nature made him appear dumb, but Michael knew his strength from the ride he had taken on his shoulder.

“Thank you for clearing that up, I thought you guys were some weird new sing-a-gram.” Michael replied dryly, leveling the one who had answered with a glare.

“That’s all you need to know.” A man of Asian descent snapped back irritably.

Michael huffed impatiently, squirming to get more comfortable.

“Will you stop that!” the third demanded, Michael recognized him as the one who threw him out the window.

“How about I tie you up, dump you in a row boat, and see how comfortable you are?” Michael suggested in a sugary tone.

“How about I—“

“Shut it Greg. We’re here.” The woman interrupted, her long blonde hair fluttering in the sea breeze.

A ship loomed in the distance, a red flag waving proudly from her mast. To Michael’s dismay, he recognized the particular flag he was gazing at from survivor accounts and captain’s reports. Lord Jones’ youngest son, Michael Vincent Jones, was in the possession of the Rocket Jump Pirates. Which meant that the gathering around him were the infamous Captain Wong and the Three Demons.

He had officially found the number two on his “Worst Day Ever” list.


	2. The First Move

_A boat that was black as night, not by paint but by the devil’s touch. Beware her dark sails and sleek body, for she will be the end of any enemy that stands in her way._

_Her crew is made of only those who have no soul, hungering for the suffering of all that are good and just in this world. The mad man and his daughter, a willing student to his ways, and the one who can set anything he touches ablaze. Their navigator has the ability to find anyone who curses his name, or so I’ve been told. The scout can spot any ship, can see a single man from miles away, and can kill him from that very same distance._

_The First Mate is a beast housed in a man’s body, vicious and enormous. Undefeatable._

_And the Captain of these wretched monstrosities?_

_Some say he’s the devil himself, watching over those whose souls he keeps. Commanding his demons on earth…searching for a way to corrupt every sailor’s heart…beware them, my boy. None who see her escape unscathed. Many…well; many don’t live to tell the tale._

An easy day at sea, calm and clear waters that stretched to the ends of the earth. His favorite kind of day, where he could see the creatures below the water’s surface as though he were looking through glass. He was sitting in the rigging, where he could usually be found when there wasn’t some crisis that demanded his attention, contemplating the world. The bottle of rum he held lazily in his hand bobbed in time with some imagined beat as he hummed aimlessly.

“What are you doing up here?” a calm deep voice asked, the tone a bit exasperated—not unlike a mother confronting her difficult child.

“Just hanging around. Nothing big going on, so I figured I could take a break.” He replied, taking a swig from his bottle.

“Well think again. We just got a letter from the Island. Looks like Lord Jones’ youngest has been kidnapped—by the Rocket Jump Pirates.” His visitor drawled casually.

The man paused his bottle’s journey to his lips as his eye twitched in annoyance at the name.

“Well fuck that.” He said finally.

“What are your orders, Captain?” the larger man asked pleasantly.

The captain grinned darkly, standing and stretching while keeping his balance on the narrow beam of the mast before turning to face his first mate.

“We’re going to pay the Rockets a visit—and so graciously take some troublesome cargo off their hands.” He said lightly, the vicious smile widening as he took another swig.

“Aye, aye Captain.” His first mate chuckled before climbing down and bellowing out orders.

The Captain sighed pleasantly as he glanced once more at the picturesque sea. Today was a good day.

_“Michael why don’t you get along with David?”_

_“I…He…I don’t know.”_

_“….”_

_“It’s alright Michael .I’ll be your brother.”_

_“And I’ll be yours.”_

Michael had been dumped unceremoniously into a cage like cell. The bars were made of wood—not the customary iron bars that the dungeons back home were equipped with. As far as cells went, it was a little uncomfortable but nothing too outrageous. So far his first experience with pirates hadn’t been all that impressive.

From his cell he could watch the sailors move about the deck, diligently working to keep their ship sailing smoothly. Captain Wong was standing a few feet away, deep in conversation with his three cohorts. Michael had studied them closely with his new free time, finding many of the stories he had heard to be grossly over exaggerated.

The first demon, Adam “The Beast” Kovic, rumored to be one of the strongest men alive; was nothing more than a man of medium build, lazy attitude, and a twisted ankle. The second demon, Greg “The Bleeder” Miller, was notorious for his insanity and obsession with murdering his victims in the slowest, most painful way possible. And yet he was currently no more than three feet from Michael, complaining about the danger involved with kidnapping the young lord and the cut he received from the daring escape.

And finally the third, and most feared of the three demons; Justine “The Harbinger” Ezarik. One of the most terrifying women in the world, and yet she was complaining of the humidity’s effect on her hair. Wong finally lost what little patience he must have been holding on to, screaming at his three underlings incoherently.

Michael was sorely disappointed by the crushing realization that the four bozos in front of him struck fear into the hearts of his father’s hardened soldiers. If only they knew the truth. They’d either laugh or cry from embarrassment.

“Does this happen a lot?” he asked the guard that stood lazily leaning against his cell, chin propped on the heel of his hand.

“All the time.” The guard said exasperatedly, rolling his eyes.

“Does it ever end?”

“Never.” The guard replied solemnly, Michael almost felt bad for him.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his pity for the man prompting him to be a least polite.

“Felix. Nice to meet you.” He greeted.

“Nice to meet you too, Felix. I’m Michael. You may want to cover your ears.”

With a questioning glance, Felix shrugged and followed Michael’s instructions. The young man stood from his provided stool and dusted off his clothes. Wong needed to look into a better cleaning lady or something; his ship was an absolute mess.

The red head took a deep breath and closed his eyes. This was his specialty, what he was good at.

“HEY ASSHOLES! LISTEN THE FUCK UP!” he roared, many of the crewmembers stopping to stare at him.

The four immediately quieted, turning to stare at him with various shocked expressions.

“What the hell do you want?” Wong demanded, the first to snap out of his daze.

“Look, not that this hasn’t been a total blast—because it has—but what the hell am I doing out here with you morons?” Michael demanded.

“I think you’d better quiet down, Jones. Wouldn’t want something to happen to you while we wait for the ransom.” Wong threatened.

“Ransom? Really? That’s what this is all about?” Michael asked, unimpressed. “How original.”

“Oh shut it. Your father is filthy rich. Like ridiculously rich. You wouldn’t understand how hard it is down in the real world.” Miller sneered.

“If you know why you’re holding me, then why are you all arguing?” Michael pressed.

“None of your fucking business.” Wong shot back, turning his back to the young man.

Michael sighed, plopping back down on his stool. It was going to be a long, hot day. He glanced at Felix, hoping to start a conversation, but the man was snoring lightly. Resigning himself to boredom, Michael stared out at the deck of the ship. A thought struck him quite suddenly, and a cruel grin stretched across his features.

He had just thought of the perfect way to pass the time.

_“You’re still searching?”_

_“I’ll never stop.”_

_“I didn’t think you would.”_

Night had fallen across the calm sea, the stars twinkling as they watched earth’s inhabitants go about their lives. One scene in particular had captured their interest; a sleek beauty of a ship was smoothly making her way toward another, a silent predator hidden in the darkness.

Aboard The Rocket, Captain Wong and his crew were unaware of their stalker—their scout asleep in his nest.

Captain Geoff “Lazer” Ramsey stood proudly on the quarterdeck, watching as his helmsman gracefully directed his ship. The Huntress was a sleek beauty, built for speed and stealth while packing one massive punch. His vessel was one of the most feared in the seven seas, and he was proud of her.

Jack stood a few feet away, talking quietly with Joel over the maps and various instruments strewn about his eccentric navigator’s table. Both were armed and ready, dressed in the traditional black of the crew, the green insignias flashing in the limited light.

A short whistle came from the nest, his scout aloft and alert.

He traded a glance with Gavin, who nodded soberly and gave the signal to the boarding party. The men and women readied, tightening ropes and doing last minute checks. Jack took his place with them, all balanced on the railing, waiting for Geoff’s signal.

It fell silent, so much so that Geoff thought he could hear the sea herself holding her breath. And then the scout’s second whistle came, shrill and high. Training kicked in, the boarding party leaping into action before they had processed the signal entirely.

Entry was done so with minimal noise, Geoff didn’t believe in war cries. He believed in winning.

“Ready?” Joel asked, tying his rope around his waist loosely.

“Yeah. Let’s board this bitch.” Geoff replied, grabbing his rope and leaping across without another word.

The deck of The Rocket was deserted, an insidious sign. Jack and the others had already drawn their weapons, Geoff resisting the urge to scoff at Gavin’s utterly ridiculous three barreled twin revolvers. Instead he gave silent orders to search the deck.

The party split up immediately, searching high and low for any waiting ambush. It was only when the all clear was given that Geoff allowed any emotion to break through his captain’s façade. He scratched his head and shot Jack a confused expression, his First Mate only shrugging in reply.

“Maybe they all went out for ice cream?” Joel offered slowly.

“Maybe, how the hell should I know. But this is weird as dicks.” Geoff snorted.

As sudden creak put them all back on edge, whirling to face the door of the Captain’s cabin. There was a pause before a white piece of fabric was thrust out and furiously waved around.

“This is Captain Wong, announcing that he desires to parlay with the invading Captain. Does the invading party agree?” a nervous, yet annoyed voice called out.

“Captain Ramsey agrees to parlay with Captain Wong. Show yourself!” Geoff barked.

Wong nervously stepped from the cabin, his three infamous demons flanking him.

“Why are you here?” Wong demanded.

“We want Jones. You should know we wouldn’t pass up a goldmine like him.” Geoff replied smoothly.

“Yeah? Well you can fucking have him. Just take him and get off my ship. I never want to see him again.” Wong said quickly, sounding entirely too relieved for a man in his situation.

Felix stepped from the cabin, dragging along a bound and gagged Jones who looked decidedly pissed off. Without much ceremony, he pushed Michael towards Geoff and his crew, the young heir falling roughly against the deck.

Geoff didn’t know that much about Michael Jones other than the fact that he was insanely rich. He wasn’t too sure what to expect from a rich boy dumped in a hostage situation—he hadn’t dealt in many ransoms. Too messy. He thought maybe the boy would snivel a little bit, act a bit petulant and spoiled.

He never expected him to glare at his previous captors and begin swearing behind his gag as loud and viciously as he could manage. The colorful quality of his language almost made Geoff laugh, and would surely cause any respectable lady to faint.

“Well you have him. Get him the hell off my ship.” Wong practically begged.

Geoff was all too happy to oblige, motioning for Joel to take Jones and return to their ship. The rest of the boarding crew followed, until only Jack and Geoff remained.

As the Captain stepped up on the railing, rope in hand, he turned and gave Wong a lopsided grin.

“It was such a pleasure defeating you again, fuckers.” Geoff said in as sugary a tone he could manage before gliding off the ship, his laughter echoing in the night.

_“We could become the greatest pirates the world has ever seen!”_

_“Of course we could, you’re Mogar and I’m— I’m not really much am I?“_

_“You’re my best friend.”_

Being taken from one hostage situation to another wouldn’t put a smile on anyone’s face. Being in the custody of the dreaded Captain Ramsey didn’t sweeten his tea either. But, at least this crew seemed to have an idea of what they were doing. They had a proper cell, with real iron bars and even a cot he hadn’t had to ask for. The only thing missing were the rats, but Michael presumed Ramsey had a better housekeeper than Wong.

The red head had relaxed on his cot, which was really just a plank of wood that had been bolted into the wall and floor, staring at the ceiling. Waiting. What he was waiting for, he didn’t really know, but he waited nonetheless.

He had almost drifted off to sleep when a soft meow caught his attention. He glanced towards the hall, where a girl about his age sat calmly on a barrel, a fat orange cat lounging in her lap.

The two stared at each other for a bit before the girl smiled brightly at him, her read hair gleaming in the light.

“Hi!” she chirped casually.

“Hey.”

They were silent again, staring curiously at one another.

“You just gonna stare or…?” Michael began, waving his hand to accentuate his point.

“Or.” She answered in an irritatingly bright tone.

“Whatever.” Michael sighed, dropping his head back to his arm and closing his eyes.

Just as he was drifting off once more, he was rudely awakened.

“I’ve never met a royal before.” The girl said thoughtfully.

Michael sighed. “I’m not royal. Just rich, technically.”

“Technically rich?” she asked.

“My dad is the one who is rich. And he’s barely that.”

“Barely rich?”

“Barely my dad.” Michael corrected lazily.

The girl didn’t reply immediately, and Michael hoped she had left.

“That’s kind of sad, actually.” She said softly.

Michael sat up, locking his gaze with hers. She had this hurt expression on her face, like his messed up family life caused her pain. A part of him hated her, but she wasn’t like Phillip. There was no pity in her eyes. Only sorrow. For some reason that made him sad, and he roughly turned over to get away from her penetrating eyes.

“My name is Lindsay. And this is Joe.” She said, voice still soft but full of understanding and layers of hopefulness.

Michael was silent, staring at the wall his bed was connected to.

“I didn’t really have a family for a long time, but I found one…just…keep looking. Goodbye, Michael.” She said, sounding a little hurt at his ignoring her.

He listened as her footsteps slowly took her away from his cell, before sighing heavily.

“Goodbye....Lindsay.” he called back, still staring at the wall.

The girl stopped, turning back to look at the young man curled up on the stiff cot. With a soft smile, she resumed her journey.

She didn’t know much about Michael Jones, but she could tell he held a deep hurt somewhere inside him. And she wanted to help him. For now she couldn’t do much, but there were always blankets.


	3. Acquiring Pawns

_The Sun-and-Stars Amulet. A most famous piece of treasure, allowing its owner to turn any object it touched into bronze, silver, or gold. Three empty slots, waiting for a precious metal to be placed in them. An odd trinket, when compared to others that existed—others that could bring back the dead, or grant eternal life._

_But when used correctly, maybe it was useful._

_Rumors and numerous myths existed, describing a Golden Lady. She had died from some attack on her home, and her lover entombed her in gold—using the amulet and her wedding ring. She was laid to rest in some spacious cavern, safe from those who would wish to use her for greed. Forever at peace, the amulet bound around her slender neck._

Geoff was sitting in his cabin, feet propped up on the nice desk that he hardly ever used. Usually a captain did some measure of charting the courses, but Geoff left all of that to Joel. Joel didn’t trust Geoff’s sense of direction, and frankly Geoff agreed with him.

Jack stood to his right, waiting patiently for his Captain to speak to the messenger standing in front of him. Joel was day dreaming to Geoff’s left, not even bothering to pretend like he was listening. The atmosphere in the lavishly decorated cabin was tense, the young man shifting nervously from foot to foot.

He was dressed in the expected finery, his doublet bearing the crest of his Lord’s house, the bear emblazoned in gold on a red field.

“So you’re the messenger of the mighty Lord Jones?” Geoff inquired.

“Yes sir.” The boy replied, a light sheen of sweat reflecting off of his forehead.

“And what does Lord Jones wish to say?” Geoff prompted slowly.

“His grace, Lord Jones, informs the band of thieves holding his son hostage, are to release him, immediately.” The boy proclaimed, attempting to sound aloof.

“Does he now?” Geoff swept his feet from his desk, leaning on the dark wood and staring down the suddenly frightened messenger.

It was silent; the air grew heavy as the Captain’s expression darkened.

“And he expects me to let the little lord go without seeing any of the money I demanded? Does he honestly believe I’ll just give up my ransom?”

“The Lord Jones has refused to offer any form of ransom. He will not yield to criminals.” The messenger insisted.

“He’s going to abandon his son? Just like that?” Jack asked incredulously, straightening back into his intimidating mask at Geoff’s reprimanding look.

“Lord Jones has other sons.” The messenger sneered.

Outwardly, Geoff kept his threatening façade, but inwardly he agreed with his often too kind first mate. He couldn’t understand anyone who would just abandon their child like that—all because he wanted to save some money. And The Huntress crew wasn’t asking for much when compared to the total of Jones’ fortune.

It remained silent for a few more tense minutes, Geoff wrangling with his conscience while Jack discreetly gave him his best puppy eyed expression. Joel was no longer gazing off into nothing, and had instead taken to glaring at the messenger. Finally, Geoff threw his hands into the air as he made his decision.

“Get out. Jones can keep his money. Let him know that I will personally inform his son of his abandonment, and the circumstances that caused it.” Geoff snarled.

The messenger quickly exited the cabin, and was off of the ship within seconds. Geoff waited until he was gone to sigh and drop his head into the cradle of his arms.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he groaned.

“I know, what an asshole.” Jack agreed, seeming personally offended by the horrible quality of Michael’s parents.

“So now what?” Joel asked, only to be interrupted by the doors flying open as a small man rushed through.

“Geoff! Please, you’ve got to let him stay!” the young man was around Lindsay’s age, with tan skin and dark hair.

The goggles he was famous for, the tools that gave him the ability to see farther than any telescope, were pushed lazily up on his forehead, mussing his hair. He seemed genuinely concerned for their prisoner, his eyes begging Geoff to spare him, and possibly take the once rich boy under his wing.

“Ray calm down just—” Joel began, moving towards the younger man with the intentions of calming him.

“Why?” Geoff asked, hoping to get a clear answer from his scout.

“Just…please Geoff. We kind of just ruined the guy’s life. The least we could do is let him stay.” Ray begged.

Geoff narrowed his eyes at his boatswain before sighing and scratching his head. Just as he opened his mouth to answer, his doors were flung open once more, revealing a very worried Lindsay.

“Geoff you can’t just throw him out onto the street!” she screeched.

“Lindsay we—” Jack began.

“He’s so sad Geoff! And he doesn’t even know yet! Please, let him stay!” Lindsay pleaded, her eyes growing wide and teary.

“I already—”

“We basically just ruined his—”

“If you would let me finish! I already decided to let him stay. As long as the little prick pulls his weight, he’s welcome to become a member of my crew.” Geoff said calmly.

Ray and Lindsay let loose a relieved sigh, smiling slightly at one another.

“But first I want explanations. Now. Why are you two so keen on him staying here?” Geoff demanded.

“Because it’s our fault he lost everything. And when we talked about his life, I could tell he was unhappy. He seems so sad, Geoff. Like his whole life has just been awful!” Lindsay explained gently, her own expression one of sadness.

Geoff turned his gaze to Ray, the young man fidgeting nervously under it. Ray looked to Joel for help, who raised a brow in return; signaling his own curiosity and prompting Ray to talk.

Ray sighed heavily before groaning.

“Look it’s a long story and I’ll tell it to you but you have to promise me something.”

“What?” Geoff asked.

“You can’t tell him I’m here.”

“Fine. Now talk.” Geoff commanded, settling back to hear his boatswain’s story.

 

_He was running, running as fast as his legs would carry him._

_But they were gaining._

_He came to grips with the horrifying truth._

_He was going to die._

Michael was lounging in his cell, his calendar informing him that today made it officially a week since he had been kidnapped. His time aboard The Huntress hadn’t been unpleasant, Lindsay offering conversation and company with her ever faithful companion Joe. The three of them had grown as close as a prisoner and guard could in seven days, and Michael liked her quirky personality.

When he heard footsteps on the stairs, he sat up in his cot while trying not to seem too excited for Lindsay’s daily lunch visit. His greeting was on the tip of his tongue when he glanced at the doorway that led to the cellblock, freezing when he realized who exactly was coming to speak to him.

Geoff Ramsey was as famous as a pirate could get. Everyone knew his name; everyone had heard the hundreds of stories surrounding him. Only a few had reached that level of infamy, and many saw it as a symbol of their status. He was someone to be feared. And yet Michael couldn’t help but find him anything except intimidating.

He was lazily holding a bottle of rum in one hand, the keys to Michael’s cell twirling around his left pointer finger. He smiled at his prisoner in a cheery fashion, the expression relaxed and genuine.

“Hey there, buddy. How are you holding up?” he asked in a tone that was normally reserved for small children and wounded animals.

“Fine.” Michael replied carefully.

“Good, glad to hear it. Lindsay’s been watching over you hasn’t she?” he asked in a conversational tone.

“Yeah.”

“She’s a good kid.” Geoff paused, taking a swig of his rum before holding it out to Michael, who eyed it suspiciously. “Trust me kid, you’re going to want it in a second.”

Michael took the bottle, taking just a sip before handing it back through the bars. Geoff slumped against the wall opposite his cell, studying Michael closely. He sighed and scratched his head.

“Look I’m going to be straight with you, I don’t know if you’ll believe a no-good pirate like me, but it’s the truth.” He said heavily. “Your father refused to pay the ransom. He’s abandoned you here with us.”

Michael was silent, allowing no emotion to pass through any route of expression. Geoff seemed uncomfortable, watching for any signs of distress.

“I’m sorry kid.” He said finally.

Michael still sat in silence; absorbing the news. And then he smiled. Geoff seemed taken aback, not quite comprehending what he was seeing, and then Michael was laughing. The sound was loud and clear, and seemed oddly…happy, almost light.

He turned to look at Geoff, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“So the fucker finally set me free? How about that.” Michael mused, still chuckling.

“You’re not…upset?” Geoff prodded.

“Nah.” Michael shrugged.” I hated him and he hated me. All of them did.”

“That’s…that’s fucked up.” Geoff said finally, taking a long drink from his bottle. “I don’t get you nobles.”

“Well I’m not a noble anymore. I’m just…Michael.”

“Well, Just Michael. I came down here to apologize for ruining your life, but I may not have exactly ruined it. But I would like to offer you a place on our ship. It’s kind of the least I could do.” Geoff shrugged, slipping into a casual ease that calmed Michael.

“A pirate? Me?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, you in?” Geoff asked holding out his hand.

Michael stared at the wall opposite him, before breaking out into a vicious grin. He clasped Geoff’s hand firmly, before shaking it once.

“Hell yeah.”

Geoff’s answering smile was just as vicious as Michael’s, and the lad thought he saw something of a twinkle in his eyes.

“Welcome aboard!”


	4. Setting Up the Board

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to prince-everhard on tumblr for editing!!

 

_The Articles of any ship are nigh on sacred. Holding every company member to a certain standard—even the Captain._

 

_I. The Captain is to have two full Shares; the Quartermaster is to have one Share and one Half; The Doctor, Mate, Carpenter, Navigator, Gunner and Boatswain, one Share and one Quarter. The Doctor can suck my dick and does this mean Ryan gets two and three fourths Shares? Because that’s more than the Captain and total bullshit._

 

_II. He that shall be found guilty of taking up any Unlawful Weapon on Board the Privateer or any other prize by us taken, so as to Strike or Abuse one another in any regard, shall suffer what Punishment the Captain and the Majority of the Company shall see fit. Don’t be assholes to one another. The Captain will shoot your dick off._

 

_III. He that shall be found Guilty of Cowardice in the time of engagements, shall suffer what Punishment the Captain and the Majority of the Company shall think fit. What are you? A pussy?_

 

_IV. If any Gold, Jewels, Silver, &c. be found on Board of any Prize or Prizes to the value of a Piece of Eight, & the finder do not deliver it to the Quarter Master in the space of 24 hours he shall suffer what Punishment the Captain and the Majority of the Company shall think fit. Don’t be fucking stingy, dickwad._

 

_V. He that is found Guilty of Gaming, or Defrauding one another to the value of a Royal of Plate, shall suffer what Punishment the Captain and the Majority of the Company shall think fit. What the fuck does this rule even mean?_

 

_VI. He that shall have the Misfortune to lose a Limb in time of Engagement, shall have the Sum of Six hundred pieces of Eight, and remain aboard as long as he shall think fit. Sorry dude._

 

_VII. Good Quarters to be given when Craved when we fucking have them._

 

_VIII. He that sees a Sail first shall have the best Pistol or Small Arm aboard of her. Don’t be slow assholes._

 

_IX. He that shall be guilty of Drunkenness in time of Engagement shall suffer what Punishment the Captain and Majority of the Company shall think fit. Stupid rule. Drinking improves my aim._

 

_X. Caleb is not allowed to cook—The Great Poisoning. Never again._

 

_XI. Don’t play with shit you aren’t supposed to. I’m talking to you Gavin Free._

 

_XII. Gavin is not allowed near open flames or to have access to open flames. That includes candles, torches, matches, etc. Just don’t give that asshole fire he’ll burn the damn ship to the ground._

 

_XIII. Geoff is fucking awesome._

 

“Holy shit was that even necessary?” Michael demanded through clenched teeth.

 

“Quit whining you baby, it’s just a little pinprick. And if you want to be a pirate you gotta sign the articles.” Geoff scolded lazily, pressing his newest crewmember’s pointer finger against the yellowed piece of parchment, right next to a messily scrawled signature.

 

“You could have warned me instead of just stabbing my poor hand.” Michael insisted.

 

Geoff simply snorted, rolling his eyes as he let Michael’s hand go. The captain swept up the piece of parchment, studying it with intense eyes before smiling and rolling it up. “Everything looks good. Now you’re officially a pirate! Welcome to the life of criminals and swine!” Geoff mocked, bowing graciously.

 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Who the fuck wrote those?!” Michael demanded, crossing his arms.

 

“Joel wrote most of it. I added important info as I saw fit.” Geoff shrugged.

 

“Uh-huh. Important. Now what’s my job going to be?” Michael asked.

 

Geoff’s smirk didn’t inspire too much confidence, and Michael resisted the urge to shift nervously. Jack was chuckling behind him; Michael was once again finding the stories surrounding the legendary crew of the Huntress to be over exaggerated. Jack was no more of a beast than a cuddly little puppy, and Geoff certainly wasn’t the devil…or hadn’t proven to be so far.“Let’s get you settled in; you’ll be serving underneath Blaine, our first sailor, for the time being. He’ll teach you all the basics and make a sailor out of you.” Geoff explained, leading Michael out onto the main deck.

 

A large man was waiting for them, smaller than Jack but still with a muscled build. His blond hair was cut short, and he wore a welcoming smile. “You must be Michael!” the man greeted, clasping Michael’s hand in welcome. “I’m Blaine, the Intern.”

 

“The Intern?” Michael questioned.

 

Blaine laughed. “That’s all these guys have ever called me—a nickname that’s haunted me since I got here.”

 

“Well it’s nice to meet you Blaine. What are we doing first?” Michael asked eagerly.

 

“A tour of the ship, I think?” Blaine turned his gaze to Geoff.

 

“Sounds good, talk to—talk to the boatswain if you need anything direly, but come to me otherwise. Got it?” Geoff instructed.

 

Blaine seemed confused by the order, but saluted his commander anyway. “Aye, aye Captain.”

 

Geoff gave them both a lopsided grin before sauntering off to yell at Jack. Blaine wordlessly led Michael down a nice set of wooden stairs to the lower decks.

 

“On this deck we have the kitchen and dining hall; the bell is rung whenever a meal is ready. Also there’s the Doc’s office.” Blaine explained, showing Michael the different rooms. When they reached the small area belonging to the “Doc,” Blaine entered, waving for Michael to follow. Inside a skinny man with handsome features sat at a plain wooden workbench, patching up some poor fellow with a nasty cut. “Hey Doc, came to show you the new guy!” Blaine announced, gesturing to Michael.

 

The man looked up from his work, wiping his hand before offering it to the red head with a bright, warm smile. “Hi! I’m Caleb. I work as the surgeon aboard.” He said in a friendly tone.

 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Michael.”

 

“And I’m JJ,” The patient piped up, giving Michael a friendly grin. “I do pretty much whatever is needed. Cooking, sailmaking, providing entertainment, you name it. Got this nasty cut from a barrel I was making.”

 

“Nice to meet you as well.” Michael answered with a smile.

 

“Alright moving on, later guys!” Blaine called, leading Michael out of the room. They continued down to the next deck. “This is our main gun deck. At the very end is the carpenter’s workspace. We’re built more for speed, so we only have about thirty or so guns.” Blaine moved easily through the room filled almost to the brim with weapons and ammunition to a small but roomy space at the very end. Through an open arch Michael could hear the normal sounds of woodwork, saws and sandpaper skillfully used against the sturdy material. Inside the room was a large man, hunched over his work with an expression of lazy concentration. Michael recognized Lindsay working in the corner, her nose and mouth covered but her red hair giving her away. Both looked up when Blaine and Michael entered, Lindsay tugging down the cloth protecting her and smiling. “Hey Lindsay!” Blaine greeted before turning to the larger man. “Ryan, this is the newest recruit, Michael.”

 

“Nice to meet you Michael. Lindsay has told me a lot about you.” Ryan greeted warmly, his voice soothing and deep.

 

“Hope it wasn’t all the bad shit.” Michael laughed.

 

Ryan laughed in return. “Nah, nothing too damning. Then again I’m a pirate so my definition of bad is all kinds of wrong.”

 

“Oh hush,” Lindsay interjected, “Dad’s a saint.”

 

“Dad?” Michael raised his brow.

 

“Yeah. Long story short, he found me and took me in as an apprentice and later a daughter. He’s been a cool dad.” Lindsay explained with a shrug.

 

“That’s the gist. Well I need to finish this repair, or else we may sink. Later Blaine. Michael, nice to meet you.” Ryan said with a nod.

 

“You too.” Michael replied. The man replaced his cloth mask and went back to his sanding.

 

“Bye Michael!” Lindsay called, returning to her work as well.

 

“Ryan is the master carpenter aboard the ship, I swear he can build anything. Lindsay is just as good as he is. Together they keep us afloat.” Blaine joked.

 

Michael smiled as he followed Blaine down yet another set of steps. “These are our living quarters, two to a room—three if we run out of space.” Blaine explained. Michael nodded as he listened, committing all of the information to memory. The deck was spacious enough, each room given privacy with a stout wooden door. The rooms themselves were simple; two beds bolted to opposite walls, a trunk stowed beneath each for personal belongings, and a lamp that provided ample light. The ship was clean, and had an airy, free feel to it. Michael liked the atmosphere, and was glad that the quarters weren’t claustrophobic like so many of his father’s ships. Although he no longer considered Lord Jones his father, not after the abandonment he had suffered. Parents didn’t disown their children to save money. “Alright the next deck is storage and the brig—you’ve already been there.” Blaine chuckled.

 

“Yeah, for a prison it wasn’t that bad. Better than the fucking wooden cage those other assholes put me in.” Michael shook his head.

 

“Ugh, the Red Jump Pirates are so low class. Don’t have any sense of style.” Blaine sighed dramatically. “And they claim to be our worst enemy. Yet we beat them every time they come to annoy us.”

 

“Really?” Michael laughed.

 

“Really.” Blaine confirmed, leading him back up to upper decks.

 

Instead of going to the main deck like Michael was expecting, Blaine led him to an area just past the dining hall, filled with all sorts of hand-held weapons. The walls were lined with guns and parts, ammunition and accessories. There a thin man with wild blond hair was checking each weapon, making sure they were in pristine condition.

 

“Gavin!” Blaine called, alerting the skinny man to their presence. He looked up from his work and smiled, wiping his greasy hands on green pants half-heartedly tucked into his large boots. “Gavin this is Michael, the new guy.” Blaine introduced.

 

“Right! Nice to meet you Michael,” He held out his still-smudged hand. “I’m Gavin; the Master Gunner for the Huntress.” Gavin said pleasantly in an accented voice.

 

“Nice to meet you, too.” Michael replied, shaking the offered hand.

 

“Watch it; he sets everything he touches ablaze. I’m sure you’ve heard all the stories and I assure you that whatever they say about Gavin and fire is true.” Blaine warned, completely serious.

 

Gavin crossed his arms. “A guy sets a sword on fire one time and they all call him a menace. It was one time, Blaine! ONE TIME!” He defended.

 

“It was completely made of iron!” Blaine shot back.

 

“One time—and they never let you forget it,” Gavin pouted to the new recruit.

 

“Well hopefully that was the only time, for Michael’s sake. You two will be rooming together.” Blaine informed them.

 

Gavin smiled, mood improving instantly. “Right-o. Should be top!”

 

“Top?” Michael asked smarmily.

 

“Yeah! Top!” Gavin repeated, smile growing. Michael rolled his eyes, but grinned at his new roommate, hoping to start things off on the right foot.

 

“We’ll leave you to your work. See you at chow time!” Blaine called over his shoulder, Michael following.

 

“Yeah see you chaps later!” Gavin called back, returning to the gun he was putting back together.

 

Blaine and Michael emerged on the top deck to see a tall gangly man with wild black hair intently staring up at the rigging. “Joel!” Blaine greeted. The man turned to face them with a weak smile.

 

“Blaine, and the new guy. Michael.” Joel awkwardly offered his hand, which Michael shook politely.

 

“Joel is the navigator on board. Third in command, and a downright genius when it comes to certain aspects of life.” Blaine explained.

 

“Yeah, especially annoying Jack. Which I need to do. Right now. Bye.” He said stiffly, marching away.

 

Michael and Blaine exchanged a look before turning back to the rigging and immediately diving into work. Blaine showed Michael the basics: which ropes did what, the best way to help unfurl a sail and where to tie her down, and anything else he may need to help with. Michael absorbed the information like a sponge, eager to learn.

 

Dinner came faster than he knew it, and he found himself seated between Gavin and Lindsay at their table in the dining hall. The food was wonderful, a hearty stew that JJ had whipped up after his accident with the barrel. Michael smiled as the conversation around him roared with happiness and camaraderie. The crew was overall welcoming, and Michael already felt at home. He felt at peace, like he belonged. For the first time in a long time, he let go of his guilt and pain and let himself enjoy what he had. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to be happy.

 

_“I don’t see why you’re so upset, Michael. Honestly he was just some kid.”_

_Anger bubbled at Phillip’s words, his young heart still struggling to accept the loss that had taken his best friend away from him._

_“He wasn’t just some kid! He had a name! He was my friend—he was my brother!” Michael had screamed._

_That was the last time Phillip looked at him without pity shining in his eyes._

 

Michael was lazing in the rigging, humming to himself, a bottle of mysteriously appearing rum grasped loosely in one hand. He had been a member of the Huntress’ crew for about three weeks and had settled in nicely. His time aboard hadn’t been easy, he worked hard for everything he had been given, and Geoff pushed him to test his limits. He had managed to impress them—even Joel, who had seemed to immediately dislike him, to a certain extent.

 

They found that Michael was a good carpenter, picking up the simple things that Lindsay had shown him with ease. He was mainly used for implementing repairs, taking the pieces Ryan had fixed and installing them. The hard labor of ship life suited him, and he hardened almost overnight. Gavin had often joked about his new “rockin’ bod” when they were lazing in their room together. Gavin had been out here with him earlier, but had descended before he had a chance to kill himself due to drunken clumsiness. So now Michael sat alone, drinking the pleasant rum and watching the stars sail past.

 

A disturbance in the rigging running past him beckoned his gaze to the left, only to meet an expression of horror and fear. Michael had yet to meet the mysterious boatswain, who for some reason avoided Michael like the plague. But the tan face and large brown eyes seemed vaguely familiar. His alcohol addled mind tried desperately to connect the dots as the two stared at each other. A name floated to the surface, one Geoff had told him a few days ago.

 

“Ray?” he said blankly, what connection to his own memories he had washed away with the rum.

 

The Hispanic man flinched violently, his eyes widening. Michael wondered why the young man was acting so strange. Maybe he had accidentally insulted him.

 

“Michael I—” the young man began, fumbling as a look of pain crashed over his features. The newest pirate aboard the Huntress opened his mouth to apologize for whatever he had done, but was stopped by the scout’s hand. “You know what? I don’t want to hear it. I’m tired of hiding myself from you like your feelings are the only ones that matter. Joel is right—I was here first and this is my home.”

 

Michael sat in shocked silence, floored by the strange outburst. He had no idea what Ray was angry about, but it was obviously Michael’s fault.

 

“So now you know and we can get on with life.”

 

“Ray I—” Michael began.

 

“I said I don’t want to hear it!” Ray shouted. “Just don’t speak to me and I won’t bother you.”

 

With that Ray was gone, leaving an utterly drunk and confused Michael to stumble his way into his bed. He fell heavily into his bunk, still confused by the exchange with Ray, but he’d deal with it in the morning.

 

_Michael remembered very little from that day, except the terrible weight that hit his chest when his father spoke the words he had feared. Even the pain of the punishment he had endured later, the unforgiving blows raining down relentlessly, hadn’t hurt as much._

_His day had started as any other, taking breakfast with his big brother Phillip and their mom before heading out into the courtyard to meet his dearest friend. They would play in the gardens of the manor, climbing trees and imagining the adventures they would go one when they were older._

_But his friend wasn’t there._

_He had immediately gone to Phillip, who promised to look for him and hurried into the city. But Michael was afraid; his friend was so small._

_“Father!” He had bowed low, hoping the respect would get the normally distant man to listen._

_Lord Jones was huge, looming insidiously over his young son. “What?” he had drawled._

_“Father my friend has gone missing. I was hoping you could aid me in locating him.” Michael pleaded, as polite as possible._

_“Your friend? Are you talking about that street urchin always lurking near the gate?” his father demanded. It was clear his anger was mounting._

_“He’s not—“_

_“He’s filth, Michael!” His father roared. “And you won’t find him.”_

_“But father—“ Michael tried to insist._

_“You won’t find him.” His father snapped. A cruel smile twisted his features. “David killed him last night. The little thief stole from our orchards.”_

_Michael was silent, allowing no emotion to show on his tiny features. Instead, he bowed once more to his father before stiffly exiting the room. He held on to his composure until he reached his chambers. As soon as the door was closed, the tears fell. His only friend, the boy he had sworn to protect, was gone. And it was all his fault._

_The boy had made an offhand comment about hunger, and Michael had forced him to take some fruit. His friend had insisted he didn’t need an escort home, he would be fine—a break from their traditional walk._

_Michael couldn’t help but think—what if he had done something different?_

 

Michael woke with a start, realizing that he was screaming. Strong hands were resting on his shoulders and a worried face slowly came into focus. Geoff looked completely uncomfortable with his current predicament, begging Michael to calm down.

 

“It’s okay. Everything is okay!” Geoff chanted, trying to soothe the boy.

 

Gavin hovered worriedly at the door, obviously having fetched Geoff whenever Michael’s nightmare had begun.

 

Michael worked to control his breathing, focusing on his scruffy captain and his repeated words of encouragement.

 

“Michael, it was just a dream. You’re safe. No one will hurt you here.” Geoff said in a slow, steady tone.

 

“Not me… it wasn’t me.” Michael struggled, still trying to slow his racing heart.

 

“Then who?” Geoff asked.

 

Michael froze, his heart felt heavy, his eyes focusing sharply.

 

“Ray.”

 


	5. White or Black?

_Previously:_

_“Michael it was just a dream. You’re safe. No one will hurt you here.” Geoff said in a slow, steady tone._

_“Not me…it wasn’t me.” Michael struggled, still trying to slow his racing heart._

_“Then who?” Geoff asked._

_Michael froze, his eyes focusing sharply._

_“Ray.”_

 

Michael flew from his bed, tearing out of the room and down the hall, knocking Gavin over in the process. Geoff called out to him, but tripped over Gavin’s squawking form when he tried to chase him. His curses followed Michael down the narrow hall.

 

The redhead ripped open the door to Joel and Ray’s room, ignoring the protests of the rudely awakened navigator and his roommate.

 

“What the hell—” Ray grumbled when Michael viciously dragged him out of his bed to stand in front of him.

 

“Michael? What the fuck are you doing?” Ray demanded.

 

Michael didn’t answer immediately, opting instead to stare intensely at the scout; Ray squirmed uncomfortably.

 

“Are you two gonna make-out? Because I’d really like to go the fuck back to sleep.” Joel drawled,  though his eye twitched in annoyance.

 

“Shut up.” Ray snapped. “Michael what are you doing?”

 

“So it really is you. The Ray I knew as a kid.” Michael stated in shock.

 

“Yeah, sorry to disappoint you.” Ray snarled.

 

Michael took a step back, his eyes flashing hurt as if the words had physically harmed him.

“Disappoint me? What the hell are you talking about?” Michael threw his hands up in frustration. “You’ve done nothing but confuse the fuck out of me since I ran into you, man! I thought you were dead!”

 

Ray seethed. “Like I said: sorry to disappoint you by continuing to breathe. That must be a really low blow to your pride.”

 

“Disappoint me by being alive?! Why the hell would you being dead make me happy?! I’ve never forgiven myself for that night! I should have walked you home! That way David wouldn’t have—couldn’t have—“

Tears began to gather in the corners of Michael’s eyes, burning his skin and closing his throat—making speech impossible. He tried to swallow and looked away, blinking rapidly to rid himself of the tears. Ray was silent, his stern façade melting to reveal shock and confusion. He traded a glance with Joel who shook his head and left, closing the door behind him.

Ray swallowed thickly, staring hard at Michael.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, voice dangerously low.

 

“What?” Michael parroted.

 

“What do you mean you should have walked me home? So you could have finished me off yourself?! Disappointed your soldiers didn’t kill me?! That must have been really embarrassing for the great Jones family.” Ray spat.

 

Michael’s twisted in disgust and horror, flinching at the harsh accusation. “Ray what are you talking about? Why would I ever want you dead? You’re my friend!”

 

“Because… the soldiers—they said they were under your orders!” Ray cried. His anger morphed into confusion.

 

“Soldiers? There were no soldiers! He said David—“ Michael froze before making eye contact with Ray. “My father told me David killed you for stealing from the orchards.”

 

“Why should I believe you when I was clearly chased by a group of well-trained soldiers and not your brother?”

 

“Ray, when have any of my father’s soldiers listened to anything I told them to do? It may have been my fault, but I never ordered your execution—hell I never ordered anything!” Michael defended.

 

Ray was quiet when he asked, “Why should I believe you?”

 

Michael’s gaze hardened, as if angered by Ray’s mistrust. “Because we’re brothers. We’ve always been brothers. And that day I thought I had lost mine to a monster. I never forgave them, Ray.” Michael said. “That was the day I resigned myself to forever being miserable. Miserable because that asshole had killed you. And it was the first of many beatings. But I can live with them—all of them—because you’re alive.”

 

Ray watched in horror as Michael carefully removed the light shirt he always wore, revealing the scars that branded him a failure; some were still relatively new. “Michael I—“

 

“I don’t know how I can convince you that it wasn’t me who ordered your death, but I wish I could. I’ve…I’ve really missed my best friend.” Michael said softly, turning to leave. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

 

As he was opening the door, a gentle hand stopped him.

 

“Look Michael, it’s going to take me some time to understand all of this, but…I’m going to try. Just, give me some time.” Ray said, seeming exhausted.

 

Michael simply nodded, slipping out the door and trudging back to his room. A small crowd had gathered outside of Joel and Ray’s room, all looking at him with varying degrees of worry and concern, but Michael ignored them in favor of returning to his bed.

 

He slipped between his blankets and turned to face the wall, ignoring Gavin when he entered. His roommate stared at his “sleeping” form for a while before sighing and rolling over to sleep as well.

 

After the small episode all was finally quiet again, and Geoff returned to his quarters with a relieved sigh. He had no clue what had happened between Michael and Ray, but he would find out in the morning. For now he needed his rest and a chance to escape from the madness that was his life.

 

_His mother used to read him stories, tall tales of famous heroes who would save the damsel and achieve that form of greatness that immortalized you._

_His brothers used to play with him, often and with a large smile on their faces as they taught him how to be a man. They hadn’t really had anyone to show them the way, so they were eager to guide their precious little brother._

_His father smiled at him once, a very long time ago. And he had thought that it was the happiest he had ever been._

_But the stories ended, the guidance led him astray, and there wasn’t another smile._

 

Michael woke late in the day, surprised that the others had let him sleep so late. He usually worked the morning away on the main deck, trying not to fall out of the rigging while hauling around heavy objects for Blaine. Rubbing the remaining sleep out of his eyes, he dressed and headed for the dining hall.

 

JJ was humming to himself as he moved about, a half-finished barrel in the corner with a ripped sail stuffed inside. The room was filled with the scent of good food, and Michael’s stomach rumbled loudly. JJ turned at the noise, smiling as Michael made his way over. “I figured you’d be up soon. I have some early lunch sitting over there for you.” He said easily, waving to the plate of simple food waiting to be devoured.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No problem.” JJ shrugged, going back to his cooking.

 

Michael took the plate and sat at one of the abandoned tables, scarfing down most of it in a matter of seconds.

 

“Why don’t you slow down before you choke?” Joel plopped down across from Michael, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms as he stared down the newest crew member. The redhead slowed his inhalation of nutrients, and returned Joel’s gaze warily.

 

“What do you want?” Michael asked.

 

“Now there’s no need to be rude. You did barge into my room at the ass-crack of dawn.” Joel reprimanded lazily.

 

“Sorry.” Michael grumbled, ripping off a chunk of the bread he had been given.

 

“I hated you. When you first came into our lives. I hated you with every fiber of my being.” Joel began, his words cutting into Michael sharply. Michael was silent, head down and staring at his food. Joel continued without waiting for a response. “I hated you because you hurt him, badly. But now I find it impossible.” Joel admitted.

 

“Sorry I’m such a bother. I can just—” Michael began only to be cut off.

 

“No need. I just came to check on you.” Joel shrugged.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because even if he’s angry and not thinking clearly, I know Ray cares for you a great deal. Hell I couldn’t get the kid to shut up when I first found him, always on about his best friend this and Mogar that. It was rough watching his denial of what happened.” Joel mused, eyes glazing slightly as he got lost in the past.

 

Michael completely forgot his meal. “Wait, you found Ray?” he asked curiously.

 

“Yeah. He was beat up pretty bad when he stumbled out of the woods right in my way. I couldn’t just leave him there; so I picked him up, disposed of the soldiers, and took him with me. I always meant to leave him somewhere safe, but… it never seemed like the right time.” Joel said with a slight smile.

 

“So what, you adopted him?”

 

“Pretty much. He’s a good kid. Deserves a good life, and I could give that to him. Plus he’s a damn genius when it comes to rigging and wind and all that.” Joel laughed. Michael smiled, happy that his friend had found some measure of peace. Back home, Ray had been nothing more than an orphan living in the local orphanage that desperately needed to be torn down and rebuilt. Ray had always talked about finding a family; it was one of his most treasured dreams. Apparently he had achieved it. “So the kid is like my own and, like I said, he cares about you. From what I’ve heard, it was with good reason. So, Michael, are you okay?” Joel asked sincerely.

 

Resisting the stinging in his eyes and cursing his sudden emotional streak, Michael simply nodded his head.

 

“Good. Now Geoff wants to see you when you’re ready. Take your time.” Joel said, patting the boy’s shoulder in a comforting motion.

 

Michael waited until the man was gone to let out a shuddering breath. He rested his head in his hands as JJ busied about the kitchen, completely oblivious to the young man’s slight breakdown.

He tried incredibly hard to push back the rush of negative emotions that assaulted him with Joel’s visit, determined to not be a little shit, and accept what he had said at face value. But his mind was having a hard time comprehending that the people on this ship actually cared—with no ulterior motives.

 

Someone was willing to make him food when he was hungry, without even being asked. Someone thought enough about him to come running when he had a nightmare. Someone else cared enough to go get some help when he was screaming. A girl had connected enough to give him her blanket within a few hours of their meeting. They cared, and that was hard for him to understand—but what made him emotional was the fact that despite everything, Ray still cared.

And that was really most of what mattered.

 

Pulling himself together, he finished his light meal and cleaned up after himself. Caleb gave him a smile as he passed the doctor coming into the dining hall for his part-time cabin boy duties, washing any dishes JJ had accumulated throughout the day.

 

On deck, Blaine gave him a bright smile and a clap on the shoulder before tossing him a barrel to carry. The scattered crew greeted him warmly and he received a nod from Geoff, who was lazing at the bow of the ship, spread out on a collection of barrels and folded cloth. He set the barrel down next to his Captain, leaning against it as he stared out at the sea. “I can’t really thank you enough. For what you’ve done. But I don’t think that’ll stop me from trying.”

 

“Go for it kiddo. It’ll be nice to have something to look forward to.” Geoff replied. “Now get back to work, I didn’t hire you for sappy moments.”

 

With a laugh, Michael began scaling the forecastle mast, disappearing from sight. Though the day was peaceful, and all seemed to be resolved, the Dread Captain couldn’t help but feel antsy.

There was a storm brewing, one that he couldn’t just sail away from. This storm required braving through the very heart of it, and that was always dangerous.

 

For now, he continued scribbling on the parchment scattered about his lap, writing a letter that was sure to cause a storm of another kind.


	6. The King Calls His Pawns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I usually have a fabulous editor to clean these chapters up, some things happened so that this chapter is unedited. Hopefully mistakes are few and far between!

_The most notorious of all pirates is solemnly agreed upon by all. None will argue with the dominance of one particular captain and his crew. It is a silent acknowledgement, only a few are brave enough to speak his name._

_It is rumored that he was able to steal the most impressive ship the world had ever seen by merely walking aboard and proclaiming it his own. Many have seen the waves and rough seas part before him into calm waters as he sails through._

_A master of the oceans, a terror of every sailor. The Dread Captain and his demonic crew._

_His mission is unknown, but there are claims that insist his mission is but one thing. To darken as many souls as he can, while collecting innumerable riches and treasure. But others disagree. They tell tales of the Dread Captain simply hunting for rare objects—items of myth. Others still argue that he is the sea itself, god of the oceans that walks amongst men._

_No one is sure, but one thing is certain. He is a man to be feared, and his name is never to be spoken. To do so would be a challenge to fate, inviting retribution._

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Gus! Matt! Get in here!”

The office was beautifully decorated, littered with trophies of achievements and spoils, riches lining the walls. A plush chair accompanied an elegant desk, the dark wood littered with various maps and papers. A man currently hunched over one of the papers, a ratty piece of parchment, stained with some type of liquid that seemed to be alcoholic. Knowing the author of the particular letter, it was most likely rum.

His fingers were knotted in his curly brown hair, eyes closed in frustration. A slightly shorter man with scrawny arms and thick black hair trudged into the room, a look of annoyance twisting his own features; followed by a pleasant looking man with thinning brown hair.

“What is it this time Burnie?” Gus sighed heavily, crossing his arms.

“They didn’t get the damn ransom.” Burnie spat out through clenched teeth.

“What?!” Gus demanded, immediately dropping his annoyed expression for one of shock. “What do you mean they didn’t get the ransom?!”

“I mean that Lord Jones of Assholery refused to pay up. So instead of a surge of income, we have another damn employee to pay!” Burnie shouted, slamming his head onto the desk.

“Wait what? New employee? Who?” Matt asked.

Burnie’s reply was muffled by the desk, causing Gus to roll his eyes in exasperation.

“I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I said the fucking prissy pants lord we kidnapped!” Burnie shouted; raising his head from the desk, the letter now glued to his forehead.

“You. Have. Got. To. Be. Joking.”

“I wish I was.” Burnie whined mournfully before slamming his head against the desk once more.

“Then I guess this is a bad time to bring up the latest reports from Monty and Kathleen.” Matt said slowly.

A sad groan was the only answer.

 

 

_When Burnie found Geoff, he was arguing with a merchant over the price of gunpowder._

_After drinks were exchanged, he had barely gotten the offer out before Geoff accepted.  
_

_There was only one stipulation to his joining of Burnie’s crew, that he could bring along two others._

_Future Burnie wished often that he could go back and correct that mistake._

 

“Everybody hold on! The Captain is at the helm!” Joel bellowed, clinging to the mizzen mast with Jack.

Immediate action was taken, lifelines securely tied around every waist and others retreating below decks. Michael grinned viciously as he held tightly to a handy rope, wet and rough against his palm as rain pelted his face.

Ray was shouting excitedly from his perch, dangerously balanced at the very top of the main mast, laughing as his clothes were whipped about by the wind. The pain was delicious, the cold water refreshing. Michael had never felt more alive.

He hadn’t realized it until he had joined Geoff’s crew, but he had never really lived before. But now that he was truly experiencing everything the world could offer him, he felt lighter than air—happier than he thought possible.

He was snapped away from his thoughts by the ship swaying dangerously, his feet slipping off of the slick wood of the mast. Michael let out a wild yell as he tightened his hold on his rope and flew through the rigging with practiced ease, before landing solidly on the quarterdeck.

“How nice of you to join us! Wanna learn how to steer?” Geoff chuckled, lazing against the giant wooden wheel.

Michael hesitated, surveying the chaos around them and questioning the safety of letting a novice take the helm in the middle of the nasty storm they were plunging through.

“Wonderful idea Geoff. Let’s teach the noob how to steer the ship in the middle of a storm.” Jack said with a sigh.

“We’re all going to die.” Joel deadpanned.

“I don’t think today’s a good day for it, sir.” Michael shrugged.

Geoff sighed mournfully, “Well then I’ll at least talk you through the basics. Come on lad.”

Michael obediently stood to Geoff’s right, Jack vacating the spot for him with an encouraging smile.

“It’s simple really, you’re either good at it or you aren’t. It’s all about feeling.” Geoff began, guiding the ship almost automatically.

Michael nodded, listening closely to the words of his Captain.

“That natural talent lets you know which course is the easiest. Especially in situations like this. It’s something that can’t be taught.” Geoff continued.

The Captain fell silent, watching Michael closely as he watched the waves. The boy would slightly lean to the left or right occasionally, as if attempting to get the ship to move with him. Curious, Geoff followed him on one of these shifts, directing the ship to the left.

The path was smooth and easy to navigate, the vessel cutting through small swells and gaining speed with the wind. Geoff laughed suddenly at his discovery; his instincts had been spot on. The boy would be a natural when it came to steering the ship, and he couldn’t wait until Jack actually let him put the kid behind the wheel.

Ignoring the odd look Michael was giving him, Geoff continued to pilot the ship following the lad’s movements.

They emerged from the storm suddenly, the wind dying down into a strong breeze that would aid them as they sailed, and the rain trickling into nothing.

Geoff had always loved the way the sky looked after a storm, the blue seeming so much crisper than usual with the smatterings of grey left over from the gale. Various shades of blue reflecting off of the smooth, mirror-like surface of the ocean. The calm after the storm was filled with silence, the crew of The Huntress stilling until they seemed like a ship full of statues, listening to the music of the creaking vessel slide through the water.

Slowly, they shook themselves from the spell of silence, and resumed shouting at one another in good humor while they worked. But Geoff and Michael remained quiet, still caught in the spell of the calm sea; a beautiful and mysterious mistress.

Together they stood in companionable silence, until Jack pulled them down to the lower decks for supper.

“So where exactly are we heading?” JJ asked over his plate of food, looking at Geoff expectantly.

“I was planning on announcing that later, but now’s as good a time as any.” Geoff rose from his seat, clearing his throat to get his crew’s attention. “Listen up! I received a letter two days ago, from Captain Burns. We are to report immediately to Rooster Teeth Island, along with all other ships flying under the company’s banner.”

“But Geoff there hasn’t been a gathering like that in years.” Jack interjected quietly.

“I know. Burnie says there’s something important we have to discuss, but it’s probably nothing to worry about. After the meeting we’ll probably just go back to doing what we usually do.” Geoff assured, attempting to prevent any premature panic.

He smiled at his crew, before retaking his seat, signaling that announcements were over. The crew was quiet, subdued as they ate and worried over what Burnie possibly could have called the entire company together for.

“Look on the bright side,” Joel said loudly enough for all to hear. “We can all go to the Annex!”

The sudden cheer startled Michael, who looked to Lindsay for explanation.

“It’s the tavern on the isle. We always go together as a crew when we dock at home. It’s a tradition.”

“Geoff always gets drunk and pays for everyone’s drinks, they all pass out together on the floor, and then I go wake them up the next morning so they can enjoy their hangovers together.” Ray smirked.

“Sounds like fun.” Michael grinned, excitement budding at the thought of visiting this Island they were all talking about.

“Oh, it is.” Ray and Lindsay said in unison.

 

 

_“So we’re really doing this? Starting a pirate crew?”_

_“Yep.”_

_“What are we going to name the ship, well when we get one?”_

_“How about The Cock Bite?”_

_“Subtle, vulgar, insulting. I like it.”_

_“Alright then. We are The Cock Bite Pirates.”_

 

The Huntress easily navigated the waters of the western sea, making her way to Rooster Teeth Island with all possible haste.

Ray stood at the very top of the main mast, forgoing the nest that had been built a few feet down in favor of the best view possible. The goggles that Ryan made for him flashed green in the sunlight, the circular lenses scanning the scenery with a practiced patience. On the distant horizon, he spotted a small but familiar speck of land, smiling as he zoomed in for a better look.

“Land, ho!” he called, dropping into the crow’s nest easily.

He gathered his scattered belongings, shoving small throwing knives into their hidden holsters and his snacks into their hiding place beneath a hollow board in the floor of the nest, along with his blanket. The pillow would have to stay; he hoped it didn’t rain before he could remove it.

After everything was in order, he took the rope that remained near him at all times and lazily fell from the nest. The rope pulled taut and the pirate easily arced his flight and landed silently next to Joel on the Navigation deck.

“Hello Ray.” The older man greeted, hunched over a collection of maps and letters.

“Yo. Whatcha doin?” he asked easily, plopping into one of the chairs scattered on the small deck.

“Reading.”

“Reading what?”

“Letters.”

“What kind of letters?”

“Secret ones.”

“Oh so your mom wrote you?”

Joel’s silence caused Ray to grin viciously, “Tell Mama Heyman I said hello.”

“I’ll ground you, Ray.” Joel threatened.

“Uh-huh. You haven’t done that in years.”

Joel’s next threat was cut short by Jack appearing on the deck from the trap door in the corner.

“Hey Joel, Geoff wants you inside the cabin. You too, Ray.” Jack said before disappearing.

The two followed him down into the interior of the ship, the Navigation Deck resting atop Geoff’s simple yet elegant cabin. The captain sat at his desk, feet propped up on the wood as usual, throwing a wooden sphere into the air and catching it. He smiled at them as they entered, waiting patiently for whatever it was he wanted. Ryan stood near the door, leaning against a support beam, watching with calm eyes while Gavin toyed with a revolver next to him.

“So we’re about to make port on the island, and I should probably warn you that Burnie is not happy with me right now.” Geoff began, continuing his game of catch.

“When is Burnie ever happy?” Joel asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“True, but this time he’s really pissed off. Apparently it hasn’t been a good couple of months for anyone, and losing the ransom money was a big hit.” Geoff explained.

“But that isn’t what this meeting is about, is it?” Joel pressed, eyes narrowed shrewdly.

“Not at all. He has a lead.” Geoff said, pausing his game to look each crew member in the eye.

There was a tense silence, before Ryan smiled softly, “Then we’re going to be very busy in the coming weeks, aren’t we?”

“Only if you’re all with me. I won’t force you into this.” Geoff said sincerely.

“We’ve made it this far with you, we’ll follow you to the end.” Ray said fiercely, the others nodding in agreement.

Geoff sighed, hiding his smile by turning to face the large windows, currently showcasing a picturesque ocean sunset.

“Then let’s prepare.”

They scattered, heading back to their stations to prepare for docking.

As the sun dipped lower, Ray flew about the ship lighting the lanterns with practiced ease. Ryan and Lindsay inspected every inch of the vessel for flaws or damage, while Blaine bellowed orders to the sailors. Geoff watched his crew from the helm, Jack and Gavin bickering good naturedly over some silly fact that Gavin had completely butchered.

As they drew closer, Geoff spotted two other ships tied to the dock of the island, one rather large freighter and a sleek ship that was even smaller and sharper than The Huntress. The Island loomed in the distance, naturally protected by cliffs.

Winding up the cliff-side was a single narrow staircase, leading into the village and ending at the sturdy fortress at the very peak of the island’s mountain. The ship was tethered to the dock and left with guards as the others scaled the cliff-side.

The sailors and gunners broke off at the village, some entering homes while others made their way to The Annex for food. The command structure of the ship carried on, with Michael in tow. They paused at the gates of the fortress, Geoff turning to the redheaded young man.

“Are you ready Michael?” he asked gently.

Ray and Gavin shot him a thumbs up while Lindsay smiled at him encouragingly.

“As I’ll ever be.” The boy sighed.

The gates were opened, and the group made their way inside.


	7. Strategy Meeting

_The Lady Ruby is a ship of functional elegance. Large and wide, she can carry the largest cargo of any other vessel to sail. Her sleek defenses allow her to defend her stolen treasure fiercely, sinking any who attempt to take her down._

_A band of sirens make sure she sails, with a succubus leading them as they take what they desire and strike fear into the hearts of men._

_Whispers say that the last time The Lady Ruby’s jolly roger was spotted, the crew abandoned ship before she was even within range._

_Captain Kathleen is a woman not trifled with, that is for certain._

 

A sense of dread accompanied the opening of the unbelievably tall gates, Michael couldn’t help but wonder if this was a good idea. Shirking his title, his homeland, his family; had that been the best path? What if Captain Burns decided he wasn’t worth the trouble? Sure he had become a fine sailor during his short time aboard The Huntress, but she had plenty of sailors. They didn’t need him. He was good with carpentry, but they had Lindsay and Ryan. They definitely didn’t need him there.

Even his talent of lifting heavy things was stripped from him when compared to what Blaine could carry.

He had just begun to let himself feel at  home on the ship, and now it was going to be ripped away from him. He would be dumped in some random port and left to fend for himself. Maybe Lindsay and Gavin would miss him, but he was sure they would get over it. He and Ray had only just reconciled, so it would be easy to separate once more. And at least this time they wouldn’t part with such tragedy.

As Geoff led the way deeper into the fortress, Michael steeled himself. He mentally and emotionally began pulling away from those he had begun to consider friends...maybe even family. He prepared for the very real possibility that this was going to be the end of his happiness.

Geoff pushed open a pair of large wooden doors, opening up to reveal a room blooming with reds and golds chasing away the dreary gray of the stony structure.

A long table filled the center of the room, around which several imposing figures were gathered. Michael reigned in his immediate reactions, forcing himself into a cool mask that he had always worn around his father. He had just stepped into a room filled to the brim with living legends, and he would not show his fear to them.

To the right, sitting straight in her plush high-backed chair, was the dangerous and beautiful Captain Kathleen Zeulch. Many of Lord Jones’ ships had fallen victim to her attacks. All of them had lost their cargo and the ships had barely been salvageable. She was cool, collected, and calculating. Her almost mothering air belied and intense thirst for action, and Michael carefully kept from staring.

To either side of her stood two women, straight as boards as they glared across the table. Barbara, known for her sharp wit and even sharper knife, served as First Mate to Kathleen. And of course, one of the most beautiful women to ever sail the seas and break hearts. Kara seemed sweet and gentle, which made it all the more painful when she killed you.

On the left side of the table lounged another figure of legend. Captain Monty Oum, known as the devil and scourge of any who dared sail through his territory. He was known for his lightning fast attacks, destroying his targets and enemies alike before they could even comprehend what was happening. Flanking him were his two prized minions, First Mate Miles Luna and Navigator Kerry Shawcross.

Finally, at the head of the long table, stood the legend. The Pirate King, Captain Burns. He ruled the seas with an iron fist, demanding nothing less than total respect. As they entered, the intimidating figure looked up from the papers he was studying and smiled brightly at the group.

“Geoff!” he cried happily, giving the man a rough hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey, Burnie. It’s been a while.” Geoff smiled as he clasped hands with his captain.

“Is everyone here?” Geoff asked.

“Just about, Gus and Matt should be on their way up.”

Geoff nodded as he led his group to lounge in the middle section of the right hand side of the table. Michael shifted nervously from foot to foot but was calmed by a reassuring smile from Lindsay. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t let them doing anything too terrible to him. Like stringing him up for target practice.

He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he was so nervous or why all of these ridiculous fears kept popping up. Burnie seemed like a nice enough fellow, but the stories he had been told repeatedly as a child and young adult were clouding his judgement; years of training and grooming from his parents causing him to think the worst of the captain.

The doors opened once more, causing him to jump slightly, two more men joining the congregation.

“Hey man, are you okay?” Ray whispered.

“Yeah. Fine.” Michael said in a clipped tone.

Ray kept a suspicious eye on the redhead, watching for any sign of trouble. Michael was tempted to roll his eyes at Ray’s sudden worry, but Burnie rapped his knuckles against the wooden table.

Silence fell over the gathered immediately, all eyes focusing on the curly haired legend.

“So before we get down to business, let’s all say hello to our new company member, Michael Jones!” he said cheerfully.

“Hi Michael!” they all said in perfect unison, Michael trying to hold in the surprised laugh that was threatening to escape.

“Michael here was kidnapped but his dad is an asshole— no offense— so he joined us instead of being ransomed! Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself?”

Michael stared blankly at Burnie’s smiling face before a rough jab to the ribs brought him back to the present. Ray snickered at the glare Michael tossed at him, the redhead forgoing an eye roll in favor of clearing his throat.

“My name’s Michael. Uh… my dad is a dick. And I’m pretty happy he disowned me? The Huntress is cool. It’s— uh— nice to meet everyone!” he said, flushing slightly at the attention.

To his surprise the ladies of The Lady Ruby gave him warm smiles as the men of The Beacon grinned at him. Burnie nodded, obviously pleased.

“Welcome aboard Mr. Jones. Now down to business. Kathleen— report.” Burnie said, smoothly adopting a commanding air.

“Wealthy merchants have begun to purchase escort vessels for their ships, a problem that took us by surprise recently. But most of the escort vessels are weak compared to my Lady. Nothing we can’t handle with some adjustment of tactics and a few more guns.” Kathleen said simply with a shrug.

“Good to hear. Monty?”

“We were chasing down a lead when we got your message. I sent some boys ahead to track it down on foot; Adam Ellis is leading them. I trust him to get the job done.” Monty reported lazily.

“Good, it’s about time we got some good news. When should you be hearing from him?”

“In two days or so. If not by four he’s in some kind of trouble and I need to rescue him.” Monty said with a small smile.

“Right. Geoff?” Burnie turned his gaze to the scruffy man.

“Well I attempted to make some money by screwing over the Red Jump Pirates but instead I ended up with a new sailor.” Geoff shrugged with a lopsided smile.

“And how is the new recruit settling in?”

“Wonderfully! The kid’s a natural. Now Burnie we all know you didn’t call this meeting to chat.” Geoff said, eyes narrowing shrewdly.

Burnie smiled half-heartedly, “Never been able to get through the small talk. Alright then, let’s get down to business. Ladies, gentleman; if you’d please relocate to the smaller meeting hall. I’d like to speak to the captains and first mates alone.”

Michael followed as Ray and Lindsay lead him out of the large room and back into the hallway. The redhead noted that Joel and Ryan weren’t vacating the room, which struck him as odd considering the direct order Burnie had issued. Curious, he mentioned it to his three friends— a concept he was still getting used to.

“Joel was part of the original crew. And they all just trust Ryan like that. Most of us probably could have gotten away with staying but that’s too much of a hassle.” Ray explained with a shrug.

The chatted amongst themselves quietly, content to tease one another as they waited for their captain to finish with his meeting, but were interrupted by the other officers.

“So you’re the new guy, the name’s Kerry! It’s nice to meet you.” the sandy haired young man said pleasantly, smiling with genuine kindness.

“Nice to meet you too, Kerry.” Michael replied politely, having to resist the instinct to bow.

“And I’m Kara!” the woman chirped, blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and smile blinding.

“Michael. Nice to meet both of you.”

“So, do you like being a pirate? It must be a lot different than what you were used to.” Kara asked.

Michael shrugged, “The company sure is nicer. And I don’t have to attend stupid parties.”

“I’ve never understood people’s obsession with showing off how much money they can waste.” Kerry mused.

“Rich people have to reassure themselves that they’re rich.” Michael replied.

The group laughed, relaxing and slipping away from the awkwardness that usually accompanied first meetings.

They passed the time talking about pointless things, eventually resorting to making fun of Gavin and his made-up words.

“So what are they talking about in there?” Michael asked.

“Probably about the lead Burnie managed to dig up.” Kara said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Lead? Lead to what?”

“You don’t know?” Kara asked, surprised.

“No. Should I know?” Michael asked slowly, studying his friends.

There was a thick beat of silence before Gavin broke.

“We were going to tell you!” the Brit defended.

“Gavin!” Lindsay and Ray scolded in unison, the young woman punching him solidly in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Shut up! It’s not our place to tell him. This is Geoff’s story.” Lindsay said firmly.

“What’s Geoff’s story?” Geoff asked, a confused look on his face as he leaned against the door frame.

“Nothing!” the group said with wide, innocent smiles.

“Uh-huh. That’s not suspicious.” Geoff said. “Get ready to go. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“What? Leaving? But we just got here!” Lindsay objected.

“Yeah and now we’re leaving. Sorry Linds, but they’re orders from the top. Out of my hands.” Geoff said apologetically.

“Can’t be helped then.” Lindsay sighed.

“We’ll be meeting up at the Annex soon for dinner and drinks, don’t be too late.” Geoff instructed as he walked away.

Kara immediately disappeared with Lindsay in tow, squealing about girl time as she flew out the door.

Kerry whisked Gavin away, talking excitedly about catching up with Barbara, leaving Ray and Michael alone in the room. Michael shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“If you have someone you want to go see, feel free to go. You don’t have to babysit me.” he said softly, feeling a crippling loneliness creeping in.

“It’s not babysitting. And there is someone I want to catch with, but he’s standing right here. We haven’t really talked about our lives and what happened after your father chased me off. Let’s talk.” Ray said gently.

Michael smiled slightly, returning to the plush couch he had been seated on as Ray flung himself into one of the arm chairs.

“Where to start?” Michael mused, propping his feet up on the wooden coffee table.

“How about you go? Start wherever you feel like I guess.” Ray suggested.

Michael nodded, before taking a deep breath and launching into his story.

“Lord Jones was hard on me after you ‘died,’ he hadn’t liked that I considered you a friend. There were a lot of...horrible moments. But I managed to survive. Went through the motions of living. Woke up, went to tutoring, practiced fencing, maybe some boxing if I was lucky, ate with Lord Jones, and went to bed. Then repeat.” Michael shrugged.

“Sounds like hell.” Ray sympathized.

“It was. But enough about me whining about my life, what about you?”

“When the soldiers chased me out of the city, I ran around in the woods for a while. I had no idea where I was or where I was going. I was just running. Suddenly the trees broke and there was this road, I stumbled and fell on something. That something turned out to be Joel.” Ray said with a small smile.

“He didn’t look too thrilled that I was laying on his boots. They were very expensive. But he picked me up and dusted me off. He got me to tell him what happened through all the tears and when the soldiers arrived, he saved me from them. Fought them off and escaped with me.” Ray’s voice was colored with awe, the tone a child would adopt when speaking of their beloved father.

“He ended up taking me in, I was pretty devastated by what the soldiers had told me— which now I see as a lie. Eventually he taught me the basics of sailing, and the rest is history. I became the legendary X-Ray, the man who sold his soul so that he could see for miles.” Ray said with a laugh.

Michael grinned, “You always wanted a hero name when we were kids!”

“X-Ray isn’t too bad, I’ll admit. But he’s happy that Mogar is around now to back him up.” Ray said sincerely.

They traded a grin before Ray leapt from his chair and stretched.

“I’m hungry, let’s head over to the Annex.”

Michael nodded and followed the slightly shorter Puerto Rican out of the fortress and back down to the village.

The Annex was a simple building, a wooden inn that was larger than normal. Cheery music and laughter spilled out of the open windows, the roar growing in volume when Ray opened the door.

The first floor was large and open, filled to the brim with tables and chairs of all sorts and sizes. A balcony ran along the second floor, overlooking the clear space set aside for dancing. Or whatever else the company wanted to use it for. Against the back wall ran the bar, well stocked and supplied. The entirety of the company was spread out around the space, mingling and chatting as they nursed their drinks.

Geoff waved them over, sitting comfortably between Burnie and Jack.

“You guys got here just in time, they’re about to serve dinner!” Lindsay said from her place next to Barbara and Gavin.

They ate and talked jovially, many of the other crews slowly slipping into intoxication. Those of The Huntress drank little, preparing for their early departure. It was an interesting night, and Michael began to feel the last of his nervousness and doubt slip away.

The pirates had accepted him as one of their own, and now he had a family. He had a home.

He had never felt happier.


	8. Scattering the Pieces

_The stories surrounding The Beacon and its crew are wildly different depending on the region they are circulating in. Some insist that The Beacon in the fastest ship in the world, with a terrifying crew to match._

_Others insist on far less grandeur and much more reality. The stories tell of a bumbling bunch of men with a flair for the dramatic and slightly ridiculous._

_Even so, if the jolly roger of The Beacon is spotted, all precaution is taken._

 

The next morning dawned clear with a slight chill creeping over the island in the early morning light. The Huntress greeted her crew silently, welcoming them back into her sails with an unnoticeable tremble.

Jack hung back on the dock, arms wrapped around the small frame of his wife, Caiti. She would be sailing with Kathleen later that afternoon, needed as their surgeon, but the two would obviously miss one another.

Others quietly said their goodbyes to close friends, Gavin was firmly held in a tight hug by Barbara and Kerry while Joel was laughing with Burnie, Gus, and Matt. Just as the sun was rising over the horizon, Geoff came into view, and said a quick goodbye to his friends. Burnie waved as they pulled up the gangway from the pier.

“Be safe, Ramsey.”

“Always, Captain Burns.” Geoff said with a sloppy salute and lopsided grin before turning away from his Captain. “Cast off!”

The sailors immediately went to their stations, helping The Huntress out to sea. Those on the dock waved until they disappeared from sight.

The sailing that day was quiet, subdued thanks to the bittersweet nature of their departure. Ray had told Michael of how close Gavin was with Kerry and Barbara; the three had grown up together on The Cock Bite as cabin boys and girls, learning their trade. They hadn’t seen one another in a while, especially Kerry, who was always traveling halfway around the world with Monty.

It was only natural for him to feel disappointed that they had left so soon. The two young men had agreed to try to cheer him up, but it would have to wait until dinner that night.

In the meantime they worked diligently, steering the ship slowly away from Rooster Teeth Island.

At high noon, a new heading was given and Geoff called the sailors down from the rigging and the craftsmen and women up from the lower decks.

“Alright crew, I know we were all expecting a break of sorts, but plans changed. We’ve been given a mission from Captain Burns, one that is running on a bit of a timer. We’re heading to Blood Gulch Island, guys. This time we’re aiming not to leave anyone behind, okay?”

A chorus of “yes sirs” rang out from the crew, Geoff directing his gaze at Ray who smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

“It wasn’t really my fault, I was only twelve.”

Geoff smirked at the young man before dismissing the crew back to their duties. Ray and Michael climbed the rigging together, working on replacing the topsail with the new one JJ had put together.

“So what’s Blood Gulch Island?” Michael asked as he worked with the thick fabric.

“A disgusting place really. It’s named for it’s main industry, lawlessness.”

“Sounds like fun actually.”

“Trust me it’s not. There’s no law there, which is why it’s really popular with pirates, but it also attracts other sorts of criminals. The Rockets are usually there, it’s like their base or something silly like that.” Ray said, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Do we really hate them that much?”

“Nah, they’re just annoying. They always bumble into our way and act all high and mighty.”

“Gotta admit, they didn’t seem all that impressive.”

“They are new to the trade, which excuses a few minor mistakes, but they have no sense of style,” Ray said sadly.

Michael laughed at the exasperation in his friend’s voice as they continued with their work.

Dinner that night was subdued, most of the crew opting to eat quickly and retire for the night. However, Michael felt restless and energized. Many of his fears and insecurities had disappeared, and he felt light. Instead of heading to his and Gavin’s shared room, he chose to walk the deck.

With his hands in his pockets and whistling aimlessly, he wandered while staring up at the clear, starry sky. Suddenly mindful of any trippable objects, he dropped his gaze from the sky and surveyed the empty deck. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as empty as he thought.

Standing at the bow of the ship, Geoff stared at the scenery with glazed eyes. His posture was rigid, and a bottle hung loosely in his grip. Just as Michael opened his mouth to call out to the older man, a shudder rippled through his body. The bottle crashed against the wooden floor and shattered, what little liquid left painted the material dark red.

A muffled sob escaped as the man fell to his knees hopelessly and held his head in his hands. Unsure of what to do, Michael hesitated before reaching out to his captain. A firm grip on his arm stopped the journey of his appendage and suddenly Jack was shaking his head with a pained look on his face.

“I got this. You go on to your room.”  the bearded man said softly, letting Michael go and watching as the redhead made his way below.

As he descended the steps, Michael glanced back to see the two men sitting side by side, one shaking gently and the other staring at the stars.

“I know,” he heard Jack say. “I miss her, too.”

 

_They were married in a simple ceremony. Nothing too flashy or extravagant. It was on the cliff of the island, the one they had all chosen together as a place to call home. Appropriately, they were all there, she made him wait an extra week just so they could all make it._

_Jack was to his left, as best men always were, and Kathleen stood across from him. She looked pretty in her simple green dress._

_Suddenly three giggling children were bounding down the aisle, two holding a pillow with a single ring on them and the other throwing flower petals everywhere while squawking madly. Barbara had insisted on being the ring bearer, telling them that Gavin would just lose them and was better off with the petals._

_Once the children had made their way down the aisle, she appeared. She was on Burnie’s arm, who had insisted on walking her down the aisle, while Joel played the part of her weeping mother. Geoff could hear Gus and Jack trying to contain their laughter regarding Joel’s questionable fashion choices._

_He barely heard whatever Gus and Burnie and Joel were saying when she reached him. All he could focus on was her, and how beautiful she looked._

_“Hey.” he said with a goofy smile._

_She smiled back, her eyes incredibly soft and gentle as she looked at him._

_“Hey.”_

_And then Burnie was kissing her cheek and so was Joel. The two of them placed their hands together and stepped to the side to keep the kids in line._

_He watched her throughout the entire ceremony, enraptured by her beauty and the fact that this was really happening._

_He was still reeling from the fact that she had said yes to his proposal when she looked him in the eye and proudly repeated the vows._

_“I do.”_

_And they were kissing and now she was officially his wife and he was her husband._

_“Griffon Ramsey.” she whispered to him, their foreheads pressed together as their friends— their family— cheered for them obnoxiously._

_“It finally sounds right.” he joked._

_Whenever they looked at one another, they smiled. Each was just a little bit brighter now._

  
  


It took two more days of sailing through open water to make it to Dive Island. When they arrived the sun was setting, and torches were being lit on land and on the ship. The twinkling lights  made for a pretty sight, and gave Michael a good view of where they were heading.

The island was hilly, the town situated to follow a zigzag pattern as it climbed the side of the terrain it was built upon.

Even a fair distance away, music and shouting could be heard from the enthusiastic individuals on land. Occasional shots rang out, which at first startled him, but eventually he grew accustomed to the sharp noise.

Overall the island seemed like a dangerous mess the closer their ship crept, buildings seeming haphazard and temporary and yet like they had been around for years. The docks and dirt roads were filled with all sorts of people; women in revealing clothing walked with women dressed in finery, some men stumbled while others strode with purpose. The citizens and patrons were diverse and colorful, a wild blend of contradictions and complementarities.

Geoff led the landing party, Jack following immediately behind with Joel on his tail. Michael, Gavin, and Ray stood close together, mainly due to the redhead’s fear of getting lost forever in the madness that was the island. Lastly, Ryan and Lindsay walked with confidence, Blaine stalking behind the girl with a watchful glare aimed at the seedier looking taverns and questionable men leering from their balconies.

Geoff walked with the swagger of a man who owned the land he walked upon, and many of the men and women jovially sharing a drink around the village called out to him in a friendly tone. He waved back with a smirk on his face, happily greeting those that were less than sober.

The music was much louder in the thick of the village, each tavern and bar playing something different and mixing together to form something distinctly unique to the island. While seemingly catastrophic, it melded together to form a cohesive melody that was full of the boisterous joy that seemed stereotypical of pirates, thieves, privateers, and drunkards.

Their party made their way up to the upper levels of the island community, where the bars and inns seemed to be minescuely better than those of the lower levels. Until they stopped in front of their destination.

Name proudly displayed on the front of the building, The Mother of Invention welcomed them into the building warmly, a drunken patron flying over the upper balcony with a short scream before he hit the ground roughly. It was by far the scariest looking establishment on the island.

“This is where we’re going?” Michael asked.

“Yep,” Geoff said. “Lads, gents, lasses— Blaine. It’s been an honor serving with you. If we don’t make it out of here, I just wanted all of you to know that.”

Without prompting, they all saluted their superior in unison before he turned to face the building and marched inside with measured confidence. Michael watched the scene with a look of horror, fear creeping in as he watched his crewmates say heartfelt goodbyes to one another.

“Ready?” Ray asked after saying how much he would miss setting Gavin on fire.

“Hell no.” Michael replied.

“Great! Let’s go!” Lindsay smiled and dragged him inside.

The tavern was decorated with different maps depicting the world more accurately than those Lord Jones’ sailors used. Tables and chairs littered the large open area, a staircase tucked into a corner and a bar branching off of the supporting wall. A simple chalkboard hung proudly on the wall behind the bar, names ranked in numerical order with tally marks kept next to them— keeping track of some obscure game.

A man lazed behind the bar, watching the chaos with an easy smile. A pale scar twisted down over his left eye, the iris a milky white. An eyepatch was flipped up, leaving the useless optic visible while a toothpick was perched between his lips. He straightened when he caught sight of Geoff, waving him over with a smile.

“Geoffrey Lazer Ramsey. Well it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you around here.” The man said,  straightening his yellow shirt and rolling up the sleeves.

“York, I gotta say I like the eye patch. How’ve you been?” Geoff said pleasantly, taking a seat at the bar.

York shrugged and grinned slyly, flipping the eyepatch down to cover his useless eye.

“Eh can’t complain. Keeping Carolina happy is a bit of a challenge, but hey. She’s worth it.”

“Where is the Lady of the establishment?” Joel asked.

“She was escorting someone back to their ship. Not sure if she’ll find it so hopefully that guy can swim.” York said casually.

“Better than the impromptu shooting we had last week.”  another man snorted, an apron tied around his waist and a crate of dirty cups under one arm.

York snorted in rebuttal, fixing the man with a sneer.

“Wash, stop complaining and do your job— you know the one that you’re named after.”

“That was the worst insult ever. Of all time.” Wash said blandly before disappearing into the back.

Shaking his head, York returned his attention to Geoff and his companions.

“So I’m assuming you aren’t here for a friendly chat, as much as you’ve missed me you would never risk running into her just to catch up.”

Geoff held his hands up in mock surrender, “You caught me. I’m here for information.”

York smiled darkly before motioning them behind the counter.

“Wash!”

“What?!”

“Get out here and tend the bar!”

“I just started the dishes! Will you make up your mind?!”

York rolled his eyes, “Quit complaining and just do it, will ya? Geez that kid is more trouble than he’s worth.”

They were led through a back door, past Wash and his soapy dishes and bad attitude, into a smokey room filled with three others.

A blonde man with kind features smiled at them as they entered, rising to greet them with warm handshakes and hugs.

“Nice to see you all again.” he said, even bestowing Michael a smile.

Geoff accepted the embrace with a warm grin,“You too North, how’s Theta?”

“Asleep back at the house, far away from here. Delta is watching him tonight.”

“Assholes. Always a treat,” a woman with similar features to North quipped.

“South, you’re as lady like as always.” Joel said dramatically.

The woman elegantly gave him a middle finger before smiling and returning to the cards she was dealing.

“If you’re here that usually means you want something.” the last man said, stroking his magnificent mustache.

“Of course not, Wyoming! I came to stare at that masterpiece of a ‘stache.” Geoff said sardonically.

Wyoming sighed, squaring his posture for a more regal look.

“What is it this time, Geoffrey?”

“Information, naturally. I wouldn’t dream of asking any of you for anything else. The prices are too high,” Geoff said.

York casually leaned against the far wall, watching as Wyoming, South, and North began their game of poker.

“Information pertaining to what exactly?”

“That stupid necklace of course, what else does he ask us about?” a woman with bright red hair and teal colored clothing said as she entered the room. Geoff gave a half hearted wave before returning his gaze to the card game.

“Nice guess Carolina, but not this time.”

“Really? What a surprise.” Carolina said.

There was a pause, filled with quiet curses from South, before Geoff continued.

“No I’m here to ask about the ship I know you guys have heard about. The one that’s been spotted on The Edge.”

The five individuals froze, Carolina the first to thaw and glare at Geoff.

“There is no ship on The Edge,” she spat.

“Bullshit.” Geoff hurled back.

“Carolina—” York attempted to calm the situation.

“Shut up, York,” the woman snarled. “I said there was no ship spotted on The Edge. I think it’s time you leave.”

Geoff’s expression darkened,“I’m not leaving until I get the information I’m paying for.”

The two faced off, tension thickening as the others watched silently.

“I killed him. He’s not alive anymore. Any other ship would be torn to shreds out there, you’re information is wrong.” Carolina said quietly, her tone laced with venom and hate. “The Director can’t hurt anyone else.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Geoff asked.

“I hung him, shot him, and cut off his head. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

“Monty made contact with someone on The Edge, violent contact but contact nonetheless. If it wasn’t The Director then I want to know who exactly is out there harassing my company.” Geoff demanded.

“I’m sorry but we don’t know. Go find your information elsewhere.” Carolina sneered.

Geoff sighed heavily, his posture deflating and the anger leaving him suddenly. He looked older, and tired.

“Carolina I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation. When Monty made contact the other ship requested to board. When Monty refused they fired. And soon after they landed a boarding party. They didn’t attack to kill, in fact they weren’t really interested in fighting at all.” Geoff said quietly, the information brokers listening intently.

“They tried to take the sailors. They almost took Jordan. But they managed to fight them off an escape.” Geoff finished. “Whoever this is, they’re dangerous. And they’re not normal. Something’s up and we’re all in danger. So help me Carolina. If not for my sake, then do it for the kids. Do it for Theta and Delta. Or maybe Eta and Iota if that’ll get you going.”

Carolina exchanged glances with the other brokers. After a moment of thought, she sighed.

“Fine, Ramsey. The Freelancers will back you in this.”

“Back him in what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am no longer looking for an editor, I found one who does a fabulous job on making these chapters exponentially better! Also, sorry this chapter is so late. Life kind of caught up with me.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping to find an editor that will help me proof future chapters, if interested contact me here or through projectfreeprancer on tumblr!


End file.
